


Baby It's Cold Outside

by worrisomeme



Series: Steve Rogers: 21 [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Punk!Steve, mentions of clintasha - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrisomeme/pseuds/worrisomeme
Summary: “Why are we doing this again?” Steve whines as he tugs on his combat boots.His leather jacket, fingerless gloves, a beanie,anda scarf (that he’d had to borrow from Natasha) follow. He had even slipped a pair of leggings on under his skinny jeans for extra warmth and by the time he’s done bundling up he’s waddling around Bucky’s apartment like a pissed off penguin.Bucky purses his lips, fighting the urge to laugh at how adorable his boyfriend looks. “Because Sam is our friend,” he reminds him, just a little chuckle slipping out. “And we support our friends."





	1. Chapter 1

Steve’s over the whole jealousy thing with Sam.

Mostly.

The way they met still leaves him feeling a little tender when he’s around. Not to mention that he still calls him a “little firecracker”, like, _all the time_. But he had apologized and he’s over it and they’re friends now.

Mostly.

Kinda.

Look, it doesn’t matter how they met or how much Bucky likes him or the fact that his major is engineering so clearly he’s at least _kind of_ a nerd. The fact of the matter is, Sam Wilson is still a fucking jock. A football-playing meathead jock. And that’s never going to change.

Steve knows he’s being an elitist here, he knows it. And he knows he should cut it out and be a fucking adult. You can be more than one thing and just because he’s a jock doesn’t mean he isn’t also a nerd or geek or whatever he wants to consider himself, whatever criteria Steve needs him to meet. This isn’t high school and his friend group isn’t a clique that the popular kids can’t be a part of. He _knows_ that.

But guys like Sam used to shove him into lockers and beat the shit out of him and sometimes old habits just die hard.

 

*

 

“Why are we doing this again?” Steve whines as he tugs on his combat boots.

His leather jacket, fingerless gloves, a beanie, _and_ a scarf (that he’d had to borrow from Natasha) follow. He had even slipped a pair of leggings on under his skinny jeans for extra warmth and by the time he’s done bundling up he’s waddling around Bucky’s apartment like a pissed off penguin.

Bucky purses his lips, fighting the urge to laugh at how adorable his boyfriend looks. “Because Sam is our friend,” he reminds him, just a little chuckle slipping out. “And we support our friends. Like when we go to Gwen’s shows.”

Steve glares at him, for the chuckle and for comparing Gwen’s awesome punk shows to some stupid football game.

“Sam is _your_ friend,” he retorts and Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “So why do _I_ have to go?” He slings his messenger bag over his shoulder.

His bag is loaded with art supplies, his inhaler, and his tablet with his unread comics and books on it, locked and loaded for offline mode. If Steve is doing this, he’s doing it prepared goddammit.

“Because you _love me_ ,” Bucky says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Steve kisses him back but when he pulls back he’s pouting again. “Yeah, yeah, I guess,” he mumbles. “Whatever.”

Bucky lets out a little snort and rolls his eyes fondly. “C’mon,” he says, shaking his head as holds the door open for his boyfriend. “We’re gonna be late.”

 

*

 

“I’m rethinking that whole loving you thing,” Steve says into Bucky’s ear as he shivers in the stands. He’d given up on drawing half way through the game, when he thought his fingers might have turned to ice and that they could break off. _You should have worn actual gloves, then,_ Bucky had chided him playfully.

Bucky barks out a laugh and rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm tighter around Steve’s shoulders and tugging him into his side. “Nope,” he says, planting a kiss to his temple. “You love me _so much_.”

“I’m going to die of hypothermia,” the smaller man grumbles. He never could fight the urge to be melodramatic. “Can’t love you when I’m dead.”

“You can and you will,” Bucky laughs, nuzzling his nose into his boyfriends cheek and placing soft kisses along the skin. “We’ll get that soup from your favorite diner on the way home. How about that?” he offers.

Steve lets out a little hum and scrunches up his face as he thinks it over. “Fine,” he says finally, still pouting as he playfully tries to shove Bucky away.

“Oh that’s how you’re gonna be?” the brunet teases, a smirk on his lips. But when he moves to actually pull away, Steve lets out a little squawk and tugs him back. _That’s what I thought_ , Bucky doesn’t say.

A couple minutes later Steve wiggles his way into his boyfriend’s lap, whining about how cold it is, and stays there until the game finally ends.

 

*

 

Steve is pouting, purposely slurping on his soup as Sam and Bucky chat about the game later that night. The discovery channel is on and he’s trying to focus on Pawn Stars when it happens.

“Aaachooo!” And the soup splashes everywhere.

It’s quickly followed by string of curses as Steve quickly sets the now-empty bowl down on the coffee table and rushes to tug his now-scalding pants off.

Sam and Bucky are muffling laughter as they watch him struggle and squirm free, tripping as he makes his way down the hallway to Bucky’s room with the pants still only half-off.

“Are you okay?” Bucky calls after him, voice laced with giggles.

Sam busts out in full laughter now, doubled over and everything, but Bucky manages to keep it under control as he pushes himself up off the couch. His boyfriend hasn’t responded and the concern is winning out over the amusement. Just barely, but still.

“You okay baby?” the brunet repeats, leaning against the doorframe and into his bedroom.

Steve jumps a little and whirls around, changed into a pair of Bucky’s pajama pants that hang low on his hips. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve says with just the slightest sigh, rubbing his hands over his thighs subconsciously. “I’m sick, though,” he warns.

“You don’t know that,” Bucky says, stepping forward to wrap his arms around the smaller man. “It was just a sneeze baby, don’t worry.”

Bucky hasn’t seen Steve sick yet. It doesn’t happen as often as it did when he was a kid, but when it does, it hits him just as hard.

“You’ll see,” Steve says with a little chuckle. “In the morning, I’m gonna say I told you so.”

“Then I’m gonna say I told you so when you’re not sick in the morning,” Bucky replies, kissing him on the forehead.

“Mmmmhm,” Steve hums, smirking as he pulls himself from his boyfriend’s arms and saunters out of the room. “We’ll see,” he calls over his shoulder.

 

*

 

The next morning, Steve drags himself to the kitchen and mumbles a little, “I told you so,” through a stuffed nose and a sore throat.

Bucky’s already at the table, sipping his coffee and munching on a bagel.

“Shit babe,” he says with a frown, getting up and rushing to his boyfriend. He presses a hand to his forehead and, shit, he’s burning up.

“It’s all because you made me go to that stupid football game,” he whines, leaning against the brunet’s chest and letting his eyes drift closed again.

Steve turns into a real baby when he’s sick, and he’s not about to hold back now.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “Come on babe, let’s get you back into bed. You can turn whatever you want on TV and I’ll bring you some coffee and breakfast, okay?”

Steve whines in the back of his throat as he nods against his boyfriends chest and the other man laughs softly. “You’re so cute,” he teases, kissing the top of his head.

“I’m _sick_ ,” Steve reminds him and Bucky just laughs as he turns him in his arms and leads him back to the bedroom.

[ **Steve** : This is all your fault.]

He sends it to Sam while Bucky is making him breakfast, with a picture of the quickly accumulating mountain of used Kleenex. Then another, this time of him pouting.

Sam sends back a picture of him shrugging, looking vaguely apologetic.

[ **Bird Brain** : Sorry lol]

[ **Bird Brain** : Anything I can do to help?]

[ **Steve** : B’s got it covered.]

[ **Steve** : thnx though]

He snaps a picture of Bucky as he walks into the room, plate in one hand and coffee cup in the other, and sends that to Sam too. He giggles at the funny look the brunet is giving him in the picture.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks him suspiciously, setting the food down on the nightstand and crawling into bed with his boyfriend.

“Yelling at Sam for making me sick,” Steve says matter-of-factly.

Sam sends him back a picture of himself giving a thumbs up and Steve responds with a picture of him snuggled up into Bucky’s chest, a smug grin on his lips as Bucky rolls his eyes fondly above him.

 

*

 

“I gotta go,” Bucky says, kissing the top of Steve’s head and trying to pry his arms from his waist.

“NoooOOooo,” Steve whines back. “Don’t go-ooo-oo.” He’s trying to grip tighter, but he feels weak from the sickness and Bucky finally manages to get himself free, only causing Steve to whine more.

“I gotta baby. You know I’d stay if I could,” the brunet coos, leaning in just enough to kiss his forehead now. “Sam’s on his way, though. He’s gonna take care of you until I get home.”

“Sam?!” Steve keeps whining. It’s practically a shriek as his voice breaks. Bucky keeps teasing that he wishes he’d just lose it completely already. “You couldn’t have called Nat? Or Peter? Or Tony?! Okay, not Tony. But you get my point.”

Bucky chuckles, already half way out the door but he comes back for one more kiss. “I figured it was only fitting since it was his fault you’re sick,” he jokes. “He’ll be here any minute. I’ll see you tonight baby. Love you.”

Steve’s pouting, arms over his chest, but when Bucky comes back for a last kiss he cracks a smile and wraps his arms around him. “I love you too,” he says into his ear, kissing his cheek before letting him go.

The second his boyfriend is out the door, however, he goes right back to pouting and flops himself onto the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table.

He turns on the TV and starts flipping through the channels, settling on Adventure Time just as the door opens and none other than Sam Wilson peeks his head in.

“Knock knock,” he says, a smirk on his lips as he takes in the sight in front of him.

“Y’know that’s pointless if you’re already in the house,” Steve gripes at him, not looking over from the TV.

“Awwwh,” Sam says, laughing at the smaller man’s sick voice as he lets himself in completely and locks the door behind himself. “Poor baby. I brought your favorite soup.”

Steve finally lights up at that. “Yeah?” he asks, making grabby hands at the older man.

Sam chuckles and sets the bag down on the coffee table. “You’re adorable, you know that?” he asks over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen for bowls and spoons.

“Yeah I know,” Steve quips back. “How do I think I got Bucky to fall for me?”

“Oh I know _all about_ how you got Buck to fall for you,” he laughs, returning victorious and settling in next to the punk on the couch.

Steve blushes a little at that. He silently thanks _whoever_ that he’s already pink from the fever.

“Not _all_ about it,” Steve says, testing the waters and eyeing the other man suspiciously.

“ _All_ about it,” Sam replies with a wink.

Steve’s cheeks turn red.

 

*

 

Steve spends the day getting to know Sam. _Actually_ getting to know him. And he’s gotta admit, begrudgingly as it may be, that he actually likes the guy. Sam even starts cooking dinner, planning for it to be ready right around the time Bucky will be getting home, which just makes Steve appreciate him more.

“Why don’t you just move in here?” Sam asks him, kind of out of nowhere.

Steve looks up from the textbook he’d been reading at the table and gives a little shrug. He’s taken off guard by the question, but doesn’t want to let on to it. “I dunno,” is all he says.

“Haven’t you guys been together for almost a year now?” he asks. “And it’s not like you don’t practically live here anyway.”

Steve shrugs again, marking his page before closing the book and setting it on the table. “I mean, yeah,” he says. “And it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. But Bucky just hasn’t asked, I guess. I didn’t wanna just, like, invite _myself_. If he wants his own space still, he’s welcome to it.” He leans back in his chair a little. “Plus, I can’t just move out without talking to my roommate about it. Though I bet Nat would be more than happy to take my place there, or him move in with her.”

He’s thinking aloud now, rambling, and Sam is watching him with a calculating look on his face.

“You should talk to him,” he says finally, turning back to the stove. Maybe he’s just nervous. You are _very_ independent.” Then he laughs. “Except when you’re sick, apparently,” he amends. “Maybe he’s just scared _you_ want _your own_ space.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Steve admits, but then he changes the subject. This is a Natasha conversation and he’s _not_ going to have it with Sam anymore. “Are you into guys?”

“Uhh, what?” Sam asks, chuckling a little, nervously. “I’m not into Bucky, if that’s what you’re asking. But, I mean, yeah. I mean, not exclusively, but yeah. Why?”

Steve laughs, a mischievous glint in his eye, and crosses his arms behind his head. “I’ve got this friend I think you should meet,” he says matter-of-factly.

Sam chokes a little on nothing and Steve’s grin grows. “What?” is all he manages to get out.

“His name is Riley,” Steve goes on, ignoring the look the other man is giving him over his shoulder. “I think you should meet him. You’d really hit it off.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve is back at home for a little while, while he rides out the last of his flu or whatever the hell this is. He’s half-awake on the couch, letting out little whines from time to time that have Clint smacking him in the arm (which just makes him let out a louder, more-high pitched whine). Natasha lets herself in right in the middle of one of these exchanges and points an accusing finger at her boyfriend.

“Ne udaril yego!” she scolds Clint as she kicks her shoes off. _Don’t hit him!_

“On nachal yego!” Clint argues, throwing his hands up. _He started it!_

Natasha rolls her eyes and lets out a little ‘tch’ as she wiggles in between them and tugs Steve into her lap.

“Poor thing is so sick and you’re gonna smack him like that,” she coos, petting Steve’s faded hair as he curls up against her chest, pouting.

“He hurt me,” he mumbles. It really didn’t hurt, but he’s sick dammit and he’s going to get the most out of this.

Clint narrows his eyes at him and Steve just flashes a smug grin as the redhead coos, “I know baby, but I’m here now to protect you from the big bad man.”

Clint lets out a snort and rolls his eyes fondly. “You’re just lucky I love you so much,” he says, though to which one of them he’s not really clear on.

A couple of hours later Steve’s slumped over the small kitchen table while Natasha makes him some soup.

“Do you think he’s going to leave me?” he mumbles.

“What?” Clint asks with a laugh, propping his feet up on the table. “Why in the fuck would you ask that?”

“He seems pretty in love with you to me,” Natasha says from the stove.

“We just… haven’t gone anywhere,” Steve says through his runny nose.

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Clint says as the other man scoots his chair closer and slumps against him.

“He hasn’t asked me to move in though. We’ve been together, like, _forever._ Shouldn’t _something_ be happening?”

“Not necessarily,” Natasha reiterates, coming and setting two bowls on the  table in front of her boys. “Are you guys happy?” she asks over her shoulder as she makes the quick trip back to the counter for her own food.

“Well… _Yeah_ ,” Steve sniffles, pouts more, and burrows himself deeper into the chair, tugging his bowl closer to the edge of the table.

“Then what the fuck are you worried about?” Clint asks, smacking his arm.

“What did I say about smacking him?” Nat scolds as Steve lets out a loud, long whine.

“Clint hurt me,” he whines and the blond lets out a little snort and rolls his eyes fondly. “And anyway,” he changes the subject, looks to his friend, “what are you gonna do with this place if I go?”

Clint rolls his eyes again and smirks. “I’m gonna move in with Nat, duh.”

“Oh you are now?” the redhead teases, quirking an eyebrow playfully.

 

*

 

“Y’know, you should ask him to move in with you,” Sam says out of the blue. He’s over spending some quality time with Bucky while Steve’s quarantined at his own apartment.

The statement startles Bucky so much he jerks a little and drives right off of Rainbow Road. “Fuck!” he mumbles under his breath, then glances to his friend. “ _What_ was that?” he asks.

“I said you should ask him to move in with you.”

Bucky turns bashful suddenly, pink blossoming on his cheeks as he gives a little shrug. “I dunno,” he mutters, trying to keep his focus on the race. “He’s… it’s just… I dunno. What if he doesn’t want to? I don’t wanna be rejected, you know? He’s so… independent, I guess. Wild, free-spirited, whatever. You should have seen him when I first met him. I thought for sure he’d wanna just be fuck buddies. And I know it’s almost been a year already but what if it’s moving too fast for him?” He’s rambling now.

Sam guffaws at that and Bucky shoots him a glare. “He’s worried you don’t want him to,” he says. “We talked about it.”

“He talked to you about it?” He’s shocked and he’s sure his face isn’t hiding it one bit. It’s not just the fact that Steve wants to move in with him, but also that Steve actually confided in Sam about it. It warms his heart.

“Mmmmhm.” Sam nods. “He wants to, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s inviting himself, since he thinks you don’t want him to.”

“Shit,” Bucky swears, gently tossing his controller to the coffee table and slouching back on the couch the second the race ends. Sam won, of course. He’ll blame it on being distracted. “He really fuckin’ said that? That he thinks I don’t want him to?”

Sam lets out a hum and gives a nod, turning to look at his friend. “Not in so many words, but yeah. Since you hadn’t asked he assumed it was because you wanted your space still.”

“Shit,” Buck breathes again, running a hand through his hair. “I’d move him in today, flu and all, if I knew it was what he wanted. What the fuck do I do?”

“Just talk to him man,” Sam says, resting a hand on his friend’s knee. He’s got that smile on his face, the one that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay, and Bucky thinks, duh.

 

 

*

 

Steve’s in the bathroom at Bucky’s, spreading pastel pink dye through his freshly-bleached hair. He’s almost done when the brunet peeks his head in.

“Hey babe,” he starts, a little hesitantly. He steps forward and leans against the doorway, hands tucked in his back pockets as he watches his boyfriend in the mirror.

“What’s up?” Steve asks, pausing as he meets his eyes in the glass. He furrows his brow, noticing how anxious he seems. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky shakes his head and flashes a weak smile. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Oh.

“Sure,” the blond replies, finally prying his eyes from those storm clouds to finish up with his hair. “Right now? Or…?”

“Yeah, yeah,” like a nervous tick. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah baby, of course. What’s up?” he repeats. He slips a cap on over his hair and turns to lean against the counter. It must be bad if Bucky can still be this serious while he looks this ridiculous.

“I just… I’ve been thinking…” he trails off, takes a deep breath, and Steve’s heart sinks, his stomach jumps into his throat. He wants to say something, but he’s trying _really_ hard not to jump to conclusions. He reminds himself of the conversation he had with Nat and Clint.

Bucky forces this soft, nervous smile and takes a step closer. He’s fidgeting and Steve is reminding himself to breathe. “About what?” he manages to ask.

“I was thinking…” Bucky trails off again, steps forward and pins the other man against the counter, hands on his hips. “Would you- Uh, I mean, you don’t have- Would you want to move in with me? If you don’t want to you can say no. I totally won’t be upset or mad or whatever,” he rushes out and the blond huffs out a relieved laugh.

“Oh my fucking god I thought you were leaving me,” he breathes, resting his forehead against the older man’s chest and punching his arm lightly.

Bucky laughs and wraps his arms around the smaller man. “Oh my god,” he says. “I’m so sorry baby. I should have thought about how that would sound oh my god. I was just so nervous, I didn’t even realize…”

“It’s okay you fucking jerk,” Steve teases, gigging as he reaches up to wrap his arms around the brunet’s neck. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Bucky says, grinning from ear to ear. “So is that a yes?”

“Hell yeah,” Steve replies, leaning up on his tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips.

 

*

 

Steve saunters into the culinary building ten minutes before he knows Riley’s class gets out. He’s absolutely drained from the move, but that’s okay, he thinks. He’ll forgive Bucky this time. He drapes himself over a chair and pulls out his phone, ecig dangling from his lips and scrolling through Instagram as he waits. Riley just transferred up from Louisiana or whatever southern ass state he used to live in and he hasn’t been part of the group long, but Steve likes him and thinks he’d be a good fit for Sam.

“Well if it isn’t Steve Rogers,” comes that southern drawl, pulling him from his thoughts. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Riley’s got this grin that lights up the whole room and he settles into the seat across from Steve’s.

“What? I can’t come just to say hi and check in on the newest member of the gang?” he teases, righting himself in the chair just a little. “Actually, though,” he starts and Riley chuckles, “I’ve got this friend – kind of – he’s more Buck’s friend, but we’re bonding and shit-” Riley knows exactly where this is going, Steve can see it in his eyes and the way his eyebrows quirk up toward his hairline, but he lets him go on. “And I was thinking, you two would be _great_ for each other and should totally go on a double date with us.” He finishes in sing-song with this huge, cheesy grin and jazz hands.

“Well how can I say no to an offer like that?” he jokes, leaning back in the chair.

“Oh come on,” Steve urges, smirking. “It’ll be my treat and he’s super cute and a great guy.”

“I thought Natasha was the matchmaker,” Riley laughs, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair.

“Well, usually, yeah,” Steve gives a little shrug, that grin still on his lips. “But this time it’s me. Just give him a chance, yeah?”

Riley’s smiling but he’s looking at him calculating, eyes narrowed as he searches Steve’s face. “Fine,” he says finally. “Alright, sounds good.”

 

 

*

 

“So I’ve got a proposition for you,” Bucky says with a smirk. He and Sam are catching lunch between classes.

“Oh yeah?” Sam replies with a suspicious look.

“Steve said he mentioned introducing you to Riley,” Bucky says around a french fry. “And, well, it’s less of a proposition and more me telling you he set up a double date for Friday.”

Sam laughs and shakes his head a little. “That little firecracker sure is something else,” he replies.

“You keep calling him little he’s gonna try and kill you one of these times,” the brunet chuckles.

“I can take him,” Sam smirks. “Besides, from what I hear Tony calls him little all the time.”

“Tony grew up with him,” Bucky points out, pointing at his friend with a french fry. “It’s earned him some special privileges, I think.”

Sam snorts and rolls his eyes. “Well that’s just not fair,” he jokes.

“So what do you say about the double date?” Bucky asks, leaning on his elbows on the table. “You’re not gonna let my baby down, are you?”

The smirk tugs at the corner of his lips again and Sam leans back in his seat. “I don’t think I’d be able to sleep at night if I did a thing like that,” he teases.

 

*

 

“Are you sure this outfit’s okay?” Riley asks as they approach the restaurant. Bucky and Sam are already inside, having come early to get a table.

Steve stops outside the door and turns to his friend, smiling as he gives him a once-over. “You look amazing,” he says. “He’s gonna be speechless. Scout’s honor.” And he holds up two fingers like he always does when the phrase leaves his mouth.

“You weren’t a scout,” Riley teases him, like everyone does, laughing, but takes the compliment. “Alright, alright, let’s go.”

Steve flashes a big smile with all his teeth and links his arm with his friend’s as they enter the restaurant. He waves to his boyfriend as they make their way to the table in the back and Bucky waves back, grinning from ear to ear.

“That is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life,” Riley whispers as he catches sight of Sam and Steve just giggles. “I can’t talk to _him_! Oh my _god_ what have you done Rogers?” Steve just nudges him in the side gently.

“Hey baby,” Steve’s still giggling as they reach the table.

“God you’re so fucking beautiful,” Bucky says, hopping up from his seat and pulling Steve to him. He kisses him sweet and passionate and Steve can’t help the little noise that escapes as he melts into his boyfriend’s arms.

Sam is staring at them with an amused grin and a quirked eyebrow and Riley just stands there awkwardly, not sure if he should look away or introduce himself to his date or what.

“Sorry,” Bucky says and Steve giggles again when he pulls back. “Haven’t seen you all day, can’t help myself.” He winks.

A smug smirk dances across Steve’s lips and he slips an arm around Bucky’s waist. “Well, Riley, this is Sam. Sam, Riley,” he introduces, snuggling into his boyfriend’s side.

“Nice to meet you,” Sam says, standing up to pull a chair out for the blond.

Riley blushes and fights back a nervous giggle. “Thank you,” he says, taking his seat. “The pleasure is all mine.”

The night goes amazingly, even better than Steve had thought it would, and it makes him feel a little giddy inside. He suddenly understands why Natasha plays matchmaker so often. Sam and Riley get along like a house fire and are even still content at the restaurant’s bar when Steve and Bucky decide to turn in for the night.

The next morning over breakfast Bucky gets a text. “It’s from Sam,” he says, and as soon as he opens it he gasps a little and starts cracking up.

“What? What?! Lemme see!” Steve says and scrambles to snatch his boyfriend’s phone from his hands.

When he sees the picture he starts giggling like a maniac and mentally gives himself a high five. Sam is shirtless in bed and in the background is Riley, naked and still sleeping, the blanket just barely covering his ass.

It’s captioned, ‘Tell Steve thanks for the best night ever.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. Hope you guys liked it!
> 
> Comments, kudos, bookmarks, reblogs/messages (let's be friends!) on [tumblr](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20fic) etc are sososo greatly appreciated!
> 
> And, as always, if there's anything you wanna see, either from these boys or another fic or something different entirely, just let me know. Requests are always open! Love you guys!<3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter two will be coming soon!
> 
> Comments, kudos, etc etc etc mean so much to me and I appreciate them so much!
> 
> AND, as always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com) where you can talk to me about comics or my stories or send me requests/prompts or, you know, we can just be friends :)<3


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